


Consider The Tumbleweeds

by QixxiQ



Category: Wanted: Dead or Alive
Genre: Canon-Typical Medical Accuracy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-15 03:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14151315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QixxiQ/pseuds/QixxiQ
Summary: An easy bounty turns less easy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Monthly Whump Prompt Challenge. Prompt was "your whumpee is stranded in the middle of nowhere without access to medical facilities".  
> For those who might be reading this without having ever watched Wanted Dead or Alive, basic premise - set in the old west, Josh is a bounty hunter (who is more into taking bounties in alive than dead, a total white hat compared to other bounty hunters), and Jason is a partner that Josh briefly had in the second season (younger, wanted to become a bounty hunter for easy money, not opposed to beating prisoners). Otherwise it's your typical 50s/60s western nonsense.

Josh and Jason found George Powell, accused murderer, in a tiny cabin nestled at the foot of the hills to the west of Bridger’s Pass in Wyoming. There was no gunplay, no fight, not even a struggle. George Powell accepted his fate with sad, tired eyes and an apology on his lips. Self defense, he said. He rode along with them quietly, resigned to being brought in. Josh hadn’t even bothered to tie his hands or bind him to his saddle. 

“You sure this guy isn’t going to run off on us?” Jason leaned over in his saddle, casting an eye back at George.

Josh looked back at the hunched figure. “You gonna run off on us, George?”

George shook his head. “No I… I just want to get this over with.”

Josh hummed at Jason, his mouth twitching up into a small smile. “See?”

Jason didn’t see, but he also didn’t ask about it again. He knew that Josh had his own way of handling things and he wasn‘t about to start an argument over it. 

Up ahead, casting long shadows in the failing daylight, was a copse of trees. Jason sat up a little higher in his saddle. They’d been riding all day, and all day the day before, and he ached at the thought of stretching out on the ground. He threw a look at Josh.

Josh squinted up at the sun sliding towards the horizon. “You feel like stopping for the night, George?”

George nodded or, at least, Jason guessed that he nodded, his head hung so low it could have been the motion of his horse.

There was a little bare spot inside the trees, sheltered from the wind by a low thicket of brush. Alongside the trees, bracketing the exposed side, was a little gully, about 15 feet deep. Safe and cozy. 

Jason made to dismount, but Josh tapped him on the leg.

“Uh-uh.” He gestured at the way they had been headed. “There’s a little crick ‘bout a mile and a half or so down that way.” Then he tossed his canteen into Jason’s hands. “How about you go get some water?”

Jason opened his mouth, but at Josh’s look snapped it shut again. He swung the canteen over to his other side, resting it next to his own. 

Josh reached out to stop him again. He leaned over and fumbled with the canteen on George’s saddle and tossed that to Jason too. 

“That all?” 

“That’s all.” Josh grinned at him as Jason shook his head and headed out. 

Josh watched as George unpacked his saddle and began to arrange his bedroll. The man seemed entirely occupied with making sure there wasn’t a rock under the blanket. Josh turned back to his own horse. He tossed his own bedroll on the ground before reaching down to unbuckle the saddle. 

Focused on his fingers working the prong through the leather he didn’t hear George coming up behind him and the blow to the left side of his face caught him completely off guard.

Josh fell, rolling away just as George swung the tree branch again. It struck the ground, inches from Josh’s middle. He managed to get to his knees just in time to block another blow to his head. He tried to yank the branch out of George's hands, but George had better leverage. The bark scraped Josh's hands as it was pulled from his grasp.

George was between Josh and his horse. Between Josh and his gun, hanging off the saddle horn instead of, wisely, around his waist. He stumbled up and tried to work his way around, but George swiped at him again.

“Now, George,” Josh started, calmly, hands out, eyes flicking between George‘s face and the heavy tree branch. “We talked about this. How you’re not a killer.” He moved a little closer to his gun. “How it was self defense.”

“Self defense,” George spat. “This is self defense.” He dropped the tree branch and reached behind his back to pull out a small gun that Josh swore was not there when he had patted the man down at the cabin. “This is me saving my life.” He pointed the gun at Josh and pulled the hammer back slowly. “Nothing like what I did back in that town,” he smirked.

Josh bit his bottom lip. He had been so sure, George had been so sincere, but maybe he was getting soft. 

George narrowed his eyes and squeezed the trigger. 

Josh dodged, but not quite quick enough. The bullet sliced through his upper right arm, a stinging trail of fire and pain. He gasped and scrambled for cover as George cocked the gun again. 

The next shot hit the tree just as Josh slipped behind it, sending a spray of splinters flying past him. Josh ducked down into a crouch. His horse had moved towards the edge of the trees, not appreciating the gunplay. Josh hurried through some bushes, the third shot narrowly whizzing past him through the leaves. He was almost to his horse. To his gun. 

He made a rush for it. 

And ran smack into George.

Josh shoved at George‘s hand just as he pulled the trigger, twisting away from him. The bullet slid down along his ribs, tearing at the thin flesh and piercing through the thicker area of his right flank. The momentum had both of them hitting the ground and rolling. Josh’s vision grayed out for a second, but he didn’t let George get on top of him. He kneed the man in the side and grabbed at the gun, slamming George’s hand back against the hard ground. He lost his grip on the gun and it went skittering under some brush.

George swung at him. It connected, but there wasn't enough force. Josh rolled them the other way, throwing George off of him. 

He rose, hand wrapped around his side and staggered to his horse, hand almost touching the mare’s leg. As his fingers brushed the stock he was pulled back, off his feet again, the air knocked from his lungs.

George picked up the tree branch again, bouncing it in his hands as he stalked closer. He swung down. Josh rolled towards him and caught a glancing blow to his left knee. He knocked George back and the lunged at him, taking him down.

They tussled on the ground, rocks digging into their skin and ripping through their clothes. 

Josh threw a punch, snapping George’s head into the dirt. He hit him again before George shoved him away. George got to his knees and tried to stand, but Josh moved first, sending one more fist under his jaw. 

George reeled backward. 

And disappeared.

Josh stared and then blinked, shaking his head. The man was just gone.

He got his feet under him and eased himself up, groaning from the pain radiating from every inch of his body. Legs trembling, he limped forward, warily inching closer to where he had last seen George. 

There was an edge to the land. The gully. George had fallen back down the steep side of the gully.

The latefternoon sun was casting shadows down on the bottom, but Josh could still make out George's body lying motionless there. He turned to, finally, get his gun when a wave of dizziness washed over him. Josh pressed his hand against his side, trying to breathe through vertigo, but still, his head reeled. He stumbled backward, legs unwilling to hold him upright anymore.

The ground shifted under his already unsteady feet and Josh had no time to react. He too tumbled down the sheer side, rolling to a crumpled heap at the bottom.


	2. Chapter 2

Truth be told Jason didn’t really mind being Josh’s errand boy, as long as Josh let him take lead on a few bounties. He was getting a real taste of what bounty hunting had to offer and as far as he was concerned it was a hell of a lot more interesting, and profitable, than sitting in one town his whole life.

Jason took his time filling the canteens, the water ice cold from the snow melt in the mountains. He let his horse drink its fill and then lazily headed back towards camp. 

As they trotted towards the trees the hair on the back of Jason’s neck pricked up. He could just make out Josh’s horse up ahead, wandering along the outside edge. As he rode closer he could see that the animal was untied, saddle still on, and, most unsettling of all, gun and holster still hanging of the horn.

He slid his gun out of the holster, eyes scanning the area. There was no sound as he dismounted and he grabbed the reins of both horses and secured them to a bush. 

Jason crouched, ducking low behind the shrubbery as he made his way around the edge of the copse, staying as hidden as possible until the last second. He paused, listening. Nothing. He whistled a lone bird cry and his stomach knotted when there was no response. His grip on his gun tightened, finger starting to squeeze the trigger as he rounded the last bit of bushed to leap into the sheltered, center opening.

No Josh. No George. A lone bedroll. Even George’s horse was gone. Jason walked through and check the other edge of bushes to be sure, but the animal wasn’t there.

He called out then. Yelling Josh’s name into the breeze and heart tightening every time he heard nothing back. 

Eyes on the ground, hoping to find some clue about what happened, Jason very nearly backed himself into the gully. He tipped forward at the last moment, boot heels sending a small cascade of rocks skittering down the side.

He turned, eyes following the mini rock slide, and froze. The setting sun was throwing shadows, but Jason could still make out the two forms on the bottom.

A long string of curses that his mother would have been shocked to learn he knew followed Jason as he slid down the side, catching his hands on sharp rocks as he tried to control his descent. 

He spared only a moments glance at George‘s body, its eyes wide and unseeing, before crashing to his knees next to Josh. His hand trembled as he reached out, fingers brushing against the tacky blood coating his partner’s side. “Josh?” The name ghosted past Jason’s lips, a prayer as he waited in the fading light, eyes straining, watching for the slow rise and fall of Josh’s chest.

His shoulders sagged as he saw the faint movement, eyes closing with a heavy exhale. Alive was good. Alive was something he could work with. He bit his lower lip as his eyes scanned the rest of Josh’s body; shirt ripped in multiple places, scrapes and cuts peppering where Jason could see, and a painful looking deep red abrasion marking the left side of his face from jaw to temple. 

Jason sighed into the growing darkness and scrambled back up the side, mind piecing together a plan to get Josh out of the gully.

Twenty some minutes later he slid back down, aiming away from Josh so as not to hit him with the plume of dust and rocks he’d kicked up. He dropped the bundle of blankets and rope he’d brought down and knelt next to Josh’s head, peering at him through the darkness, aided only by faint moonlight. 

Half terrified that he’d come back down to a corpse, he laid a light hand onto Josh’s chest and exhaled when he could feel the steady up and down movement. Jason then moved his hand over to Josh’s side, fingers edging along the stiffened fabric but not coming across any warm slickness. At least he wasn’t bleeding anymore, not that Jason could find. 

He laid out their two bedrolls and blankets on the ground next to Josh. He hoped that by doubling them up they’d be less likely to tear on the rough rocks.

Starting at the bottom Jason lifted Josh’s feet sideways onto the blankets. Then he went to his head and hooked his hands under Josh’s arms, lifting the other half of him up.

Josh groaned, shifting in his arms and Jason almost lost his grip at the sudden movement. “Just take it easy, okay?” 

“Jsn?” 

“Yeah, it’s me.“ Jason winced at the pained rasp. 

“Hurts.”

“You got yourself pretty banged up while I was gone.” He moved to ease Josh down as quickly as possible, kneeling behind him, keeping him steady until he settled down.

“Powell?” He shifted suddenly again, hand reaching out, feeling the ground around him. “Need my gun, Jase.”

“He’s dead, Josh.” Jason’s eyes flicked towards the corpse. “It’s okay,“ He assured, feeling some of the tension ease out of Josh’s body. “You know,” he said, lightly. “I’d say you got the worst of the fight, except…” He trailed off with a soft laugh.

Josh huffed and then winced. “This is a lesson for you, Jason.”

“Oh no,” Jason shook his head. “I already know not to trust accused murderers.” He grabbed his canteen. “Here.” He slid a hand under Josh’s head and pressed the edge against his lips, trickling the water slowly into his mouth. 

Josh sighed as Jason lowered his head back to the ground. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, eyes fluttering shut. 

He patted Josh’s chest lightly. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” He picked up the length of rope and started towards Josh’s feet.

Josh reached out a hand to stop him, fingers weakly catching at Jason‘s clothes. “What, uh, what exactly are you doing?”

“I figured you couldn’t walk.” He heard Josh hum in response and he sighed. “Can you walk?” It took a second of Josh shifting his legs and a groan for a new, previously unthought-of worry to wash over Jason. “Is one of them broke?”

Josh gasped as he moved the wrong way. “No I, I don’t think so. Knee hurts though.”

Jason leaned over to feel the knee that Josh was reaching for. He ran his hands down either side of his left leg and could feel the swelling at the joint. He felt further down, squeezing lightly. “You feel that?”

“Yeah, I feel that.” 

“Good, good.” He patted Josh’s ankles and reached for the rope again. Josh made a noise. “What?” Peering at Josh in the dark Jason could see him get a look on his face and braced himself, knowing that Josh had put together what Jason was doing.

“I don’t want you dragging me up the side,” he said, the petulant tone setting Jason’s teeth on edge.

“How do you expect me to get you up there, Randall?”

Josh opened his mouth, tongue running along his bottom lip as he thought, working through all his limited options before he finally closed it again. He sniffed, looking away from Jason. “I don’t like the idea of you dragging me up the side.”

“Well, I don’t like it either.” Jason folded the edge of the blankets around the bottom Josh’s boots and then tied the rope around his ankles, rougher than he should have.

Josh sucked in a breath. “That’s some bedside manner you got there, Nicholls.”

Jason sighed, but when he moved up to Josh’s thighs he wrapped the rope more gently. He moved until he had harnessed Josh snuggly, wrapping the rope under his arms and giving himself a handle to hold behind his head. He tugged on it, lifting Josh slightly. “How’s that feel?” He asked before shouldering the canteen.

Josh winced at the movement. “Snug as a bug,” he gritted out. 

It was rough pulling Josh’s weight and the blankets snagged on everything that they were dragged over. They reached the point where the slope got too steep and Jason’s boots slipped on the rocks, sending him down to his knees. Josh jostled behind him and Jason heard him hiss sharply. “You okay?”

“Oh, just fine,” Josh groaned, teeth clenched against pain rippling through his body.

Jason slid next to him and pressed the canteen to his lips again. “Sorry.” A breeze ruffled Jason’s hair and he shivered. He’d been moving since he had come back from the creek, but now he was beginning to feel the chill of the night. “It’s steep.” He absently brushed his fingers against the cool skin of Josh’s cheek when he took the canteen away.

Josh stayed silent, breathing through the remaining pain.

“I’ll be right back.” Jason hurried up the side alone.

The horses were still tied where he left them. He found another length of rope and tied it to his saddle, leading his horse as close to the edge of the gully as he could. Then he made his way back to Josh and tied the other end of the rope to the handle he had.

“Jase?” 

He patted Josh’s bundled shoulder. “I’m gonna have you up in a minute,” he promised before leaving again, following the taught rope up to his hose. 

Jason encouraged his horse slowly forward. He heard Josh cry out, the side harsher than the bottom had been. “You’re almost there,” he assured him, guiding the rope with his hands. 

Josh’s body crested the top edge and Jason hurried to pull him the rest of the way himself, slower than the horse, but more mindful of how Josh was being moved. 

Dropping to his knees next to Josh Jason quickly worked the ropes off him. He smoothed his hands down Josh’s sides, feeling the tremors running through his body. “You want some water?”

Josh shook his head, lips tight together.

“Okay, you just,” Jason sighed laying his hand lightly on Josh’s chest. “You just rest here a minute and I‘ll get the horses ready.” 

As he made to stand Josh’s hand flopped clumsily against his leg. “Can’t,” he panted, face pale in the moonlight. “Can’t ride tonight.”

Jason sagged against the ground. “Right.” He shook his head, reevaluating his options. “How about I go get a fire going? How does that sound?” He tried to sound positive, upbeat, not like he thought that meant that Josh was going to die right in front of him.

“That sounds real good, Jason,” Josh mumbled as his eyes slipped shut. “Real good.”


End file.
